Forever and a Day
by KayValo87
Summary: TEENCHESTERS: A chance encounter leads the Winchester brothers to make tough decision; how much would they sacrifice to keep the other safe? Some hurt, some angst, and brothers being brothers.


Okay, so here is what happened. I could not sleep (at all) so I thought I would work on my fanfiction. (I have bee sick for quite a while now and was unable to write.)

Anyway, I wanted to update "Breaking Point", "Age to Age", "Cat's Eye", or "Mojo Rising", but my brain wouldn't let me!

Insead, this story that I've been thinking about writing for months demanded attention.

So, here it is ... a new story ... again ... yeah. I hope you like it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural, I just love writing about it

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Chapter 1**

**LANCASTER, ENGLAND 1634**

Pulling his cloak tighter around himself to try and stave off the pouring rain, a lone hunter cautiously made his way through the woods. His crossbow at the ready, he stopped in a circle of trees, grey eyes piercing the shadows in search of his prey.

"Who doust thou seekth, o noble Fawkes Danlin?"

Tightening his grip at the sound of the mocking voice, he stood his ground. Patience, he reminded himself. His prey would come to him, of that he was sure. It was just a matter of waiting.

"Hast thou lost thy tongue?" The voice hissed.

"Thine answer is known." Fawkes replied calmly. "Thy question is meaningless."

"What thou sayth is true." The voice stated, "Rules of propriety, however, demand an answer."

"Propriety?" Fawks' scoffed, resisting the urged to turn around as soft footfalls came his way. "Thou hast none, so none shall be given."

"And is thy propriety absolute?" The voice asked moving closed. "Thou hast shed as much blood as I, shattered as many lives. For what cause?"

"Life." Fawkes stated firmly, calculating how close his enemy was. "The God given right to live free of fear."

The man laughed heartily, a disturbing sound that sent chills down the hunter's spine. But still he did not move. He was close, but the timing had to be perfect.

"God given, thou sayth? Foolish knave. Thou God hast abandoned thine land." He grinned wickedly, stopping in front of Fawkes, as his eyes changing to the color of blood. "Here, I am king."

'No longer, vile demon."

With that, Fawkes pulled the trigger on his crossbow. The arrow pierced the demon, pinning him to the tree behind him. Rage and pain contorted the man's features as he looked down at his smoking wound.

"What hast thou done?" He roared.

"Polo Santo." Fawks smile. "If thou only knew the trials I suffered to retrieve holy wood, and only enough to fashion three arrows. However, if it is enough to banish even one of thine foul kind, the price is worth it."

"Thou may have defeated me, but the hour is late." The demon growled his voice growing hasher. "The maids are condemned."

"Thou speaks to quickly, for I hast dispatched word to London of their innocents. The maids shall go free, as will thy, if thou release the souls you stole from them."

The demon glared, twisting in agony, but stayed silent. Retrieving his water bag from his waist, Fawkes flung the blessed liquid across his captaive's face.

"Release the souls or remain in agony!"

"It is done!" the demon cried out. "Thine precious maids are whole."

Nodding in satisfaction, Fawks pulled a small book from his pocket. The demon's eyes grew wide, as he attempted to lash out against the hunter.

"Thy lying wretch!" He shrieked. "Thou hast vowed to release me."

"As I shall, Mamilian," Fawks replied, "thou shall be free to roam the fires from whence you came."

"Thy words shall not stop me!" Mamailian warned. "I shall return to the earth when thy hast long been at rest. I shall have the souls of the pure."

"No, thou shall not. For I called on one of you maids today, alas, too late to save. She sought to gain immortality. But in her failure, bestowed it upon me. And I vow, on all that is holy, that I will hunt down thy vile kind until my last breath."

"And I shall be the one to take it, Fawks Danlin."

Fawkes simply smiled and returned his gaze to the book.

"We shall see, Mamilian. We shall see."

**SUTHERLAND, NEBRASKA 1999**

"Hey Sam, you want a ride to school?"

The sixteen year old looked up from his breakfast/math study session to see his older brother already reaching for his keys. Knowing this was just a tactic to get out of research for the hunt, which his dad would probably make him do later if it wasn't done now, Sam shook his head.

"No thanks, Dean. I can walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah … pretty sure I mastered it when I was about one and a half."

"Fine, smarta$*, have it your way. But don't come crying to me if you run into trouble."

Dropping his cereal bowl in the sink, Sam just silently shook his head. School was less than half a mile away, how much trouble could he get into?

Ten minutes later, after nearly being run over by Tyler Cummings in his new car, Sam scolded himself for thinking the Winchester luck couldn't strike over such a short distance.

"You okay kid?"

Sam looked up to see a grey eyed man with long brown hair reaching for him. Excepting the help, the teen got to his feet and started to brush himself off.

"Thanks." He muttered. "I'll be fine."

Once he noticed the nice big hole he was now sporting at his knee, he wasn't so sure. No way would Dean or his dad miss this. Stupid Tyler. And just when things seemed to be going okay for him … for once. Score another one for Winchester luck.

"At least they're in style now." The man offered.

"That's not how my brother will see it." Sam groaned.

"He doesn't like you wreaking your clothes?"

Actually, he doesn't like people using him as target practice for their mustang convertible, but there was no need to go into details.

"Something like that."

"Tell ya what," the man said thoughtfully, "when you change for gym today, put the jeans right here by the gate. I'll have them patched up before you're done with class."

"I don't know …"

"Well, it's that or you'll have to tell your family that you almost got run over by your crazy classmate."

"But why would you help me? You don't even know me?"

"Oh, I know your time. Smart and level headed, you're a boy who knows how to pick your battles. I like that. Beside, I'm not doing much else today."

"Um … okay. Sure."

"Glade to hear it." The man smiled warmly. "What's your name?"

"I'm Sam." He answered, holding out his hand.

"Good to meet ya, Sam." The man replied, firmly returning the handshake. "I'm Fawks."

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Anyone care to guess if this meeting is a good thing or a bad thing?

Let me know what you think and I will get back to updating ... everything.


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